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Talk:Spherae/@comment-24917038-20140919065605/@comment-89.241.181.246-20140920171238
I got caught. Again. And with Brok and Arconn pinning me to each other, I don't really have a choice. 'Do you trust me enough to show you rather than tell you? It would require me taking control of your sight. I can show you each one at a time, or get Arconn to telepathically tell you, or-' 'Hawk, just show us. Quit it with the delaying. Brok first', Arconn says. Hmm. Here goes. Taking his sight, I show Brok my story from my perspective. First, there are 8 of us. All below 14, 3 male & 5 female, we are in a cage-like prison cell. Showing a flashback to when we were captured, I show Brok that we are all the same species, one girl with ginger hair my sister. Then, I show Brok our operational experiments. They involve a lot of screaming sounds, and when mine comes around, I faint before much can be seen. The doctors face, however, is. An Elven face. I feel the pain and transfer it to Brok, giving him the full experience inadvertently. He is racked by spasms instantly which last minutes. I carry on with the spilling of my secrets. When I am back in my cell with the others, we all feel terrible. Our genes were manipulated with chemicals to be able to support the body of another creature, effectively readying our bodies to be shapeshifters. There are many other cells, all with prisoners in them too, and we are all being changed. Mentally, physically, emotionally. We are being changed to evil beings, ready to do the dirty work for our capturers, the Silversmith Bloodline. And all that is needed is our animal souls, split from their bodies, implanted in our genes. Our souls have been changed already, but the other prisoners have our genes in them. We are stronger than them, and they have our blood in their vanes. We are empowering these prisoners, making them more lethal than any force could overcome. And we, the eight of us, are being made the most powerful, the only ones capable of supporting animals because of our species. So our blood is valuable to these Elves to say the least. One day, however, my sister is taken for her animal grafting when she knocks out the guard taking her with mere eye contact. We, all 8 of us, manage to escape. But we aren't the same as we were when we went in. We are all a little deranged, even if we do deny it. Becoming each others best and only friends, we travel around the world, developing powers. One each, but powers all the same. My senses manipulation, for example. Eventually, we reached a civilisation of people who accepted us gratefully. There we inherited their gene of Empowerment abilities, our bodies accepting their species' capabilities of empowerment through objects of specific kind. I got Darkness. Living together still, the 8 of us were living peacefully, when we each got a pet of some sort. My kestrel, named Hawk. Then I met my mother, miraculously alive and living with the same people. Wishes can come true, after all. Some years later, deep into the night, the town we were still in was attacked. By the Silversmith and their minions. Screams shattered the night, and were abruptly stopped when they were silenced efficiently. My mother grabs her bow, with a murderous name I can't remember, which then morphs into a lethal-looking weapon. She loads an arrow. I grab a knife, already expertly trained with them by my mother and other townsfolk, when a figure breaks into our house. My sister, grabbing her scimitar, is flung through a wall and falls still. My mother assaults the figure, before being killed with a cobalt blast of energy. She screams, and I finally register these people are a threat if they can kill my mother in seconds. Turning to run, a cobalt blast aimed at me hits my shoulder, but I am unaffected. When a transparent one flies at me, however, I know I am going to die. Before it reaches my back, Hawk flies in the way, absorbing the pulse and falling dead to the floor. A sphere flies from his body and into mine, and I feel complete in a way I never had before. Aiming a knife at my mothers killer, I aim and strike him in the chest. He dies, and I run to my sisters aid. Dead. Grabbing her scimitar and sheath for her memories, I flee. A figure grabs Mothers bow, and hides it in his coat. Suddenly, I am in the air. Flying. Looking at my arms, they are wings. Hawks wings. I am an Animagus after all. Everyone died or was taken prisoner. My sister and the other six included. As the only survivor, I show Brok briefly my memories of traveling alone, and that is that. My life over in a few minutes. I still have my sisters scimitar, and Arconn looks just like his father. His bow is very familiar, also. So when Brok opens his eyes, he has pieced it all together as well. I collapse.